Concrete Angel
by Jack E. Peace
Summary: When Terry tries to console Nicole about the death of her family, he stirs up some things about her past that still hurt her in the present. (Bad summary, sorry)


Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me. 

A/N: So, I saw _Dawn of the Dead _for the second time yesterday, just in case anyone was interested. I'm going camping starting today (Monday) so I thought I'd write this little fic to tide you over until I get back. Though it pains me to say goodbye to my beloved readers, I promise I'll have more stuff for you to read when I get back. This fic is for my good buddy Chase's Aces. I hope everyone enjoys. 

When Terry found Nicole on the stairs that led to the basement level of the mall, she had a spray paint can in her hand, many more discarded at her feet, paint smudged on her cheeks and fingers and a cold look on her face. The walls behind her were also coated in paint, random designs and words he couldn't make sense of, mostly in black, and the acrid smell of the paint hung in the air. As he approached, Nicole fixed him with a solid stare, her face expressionless; Terry thought she still looked beautiful, despite her concrete glare. 

"You shouldn't be down here." Terry told her as he remained on the bottom step, inches away from her. "Those things could be down here too." 

Nicole tossed away the spray paint can she held and shrugged. "It doesn't matter." She informed him, turning away to regard the designs that she sprayed onto the cement. Her words rang true in her own head; it didn't matter whether or not she turned into one of those creatures, there was no one left to mourn her. 

Terry sighed and wished he could offer some words of comfort to the girl; he didn't know what to say that wouldn't sound false, though he would mean the words to be truthful. He'd never been in a situation like this. "Nicole, don't say that." Terry began instead. "It does matter; there's still a chance that we'll get out of here. Help still might be coming." 

Nicole didn't turn around. "No it's not. I heard what Steve and that truck driver said and you did too. Fort Pastor's gone, no one's coming for us." She informed him. "And even if help were coming, it doesn't matter. My family's dead, I don't care if I ever get out of this mall." 

"My family's dead too." Terry said and took another step closer to her. "Everyone's family is dead but you don't see them just giving up, waiting to die." Nicole turned to face him and he could see that sorrow was threatening to break through the concrete mask she was trying to wear. Her eyes showed her vulnerability, round with tears that wouldn't spill; when she noticed he was watching her, she blinked the tears away. 

Nicole studied him for a moment, taking in the handsome features she had noticed when she and her father had first arrived, back when things had actually mattered. Again, she turned away and headed farther down the hallway, stopping when she reached another set of stairs that led deeper into the basement, these shrouded in darkness. "Did you come down here for an actual reason?" She snapped back to him, not caring whether or not her words sounded harsh. 

Terry watched her closely, keeping an eye out for any movement that didn't belong to Nicole, but stayed where he was. "I came to see if you were all right." He answered. 

"Well, I'm not." Nicole answered briskly. "So now you know, so you can go back upstairs and leave me alone." 

Terry frowned but didn't move; Nicole was tough and he doubted it was just because of the loss of her family. She had been imitating reinforced concrete for most of her life, he could tell when he looked in her eyes. "You know, sometimes it helps to talk." Terry informed her. That was something he had learned from his now dead mother, who had been a school physiatrist and had often practiced on her sons. 

"I don't want to talk." 

Terry ignored her. "Why don't you tell me about your family." He was certain this wasn't exactly the smartest way he could get her to open up but it was the only way he could think of at the moment. 

Nicole turned to face him, most of her face covered in shadows. "I don't want to talk, why don't you just leave me alone?" She questioned, most of the anger having left her voice. "Jesus, are you always this annoying?" Annoying wasn't the word she wanted to use to describe him, but it was the one that came out. Nicole didn't want to tell him that just having him around was the most comfort she had felt since yesterday, that she didn't want him to leave her alone, that she was terrified of being alone. But she was even more terrified of confessing. 

Terry smiled slightly, a somewhat forced smile but a smile nonetheless. "I've been called a lot worse then annoying by my brother." He told her and he could see Nicole watching him closely from the cover of the shadows. "My brother, Seth, was older then I was, so I always wanted to follow him around, be just like him." He paused. "He was a cop, which is what made me want to become a security guard." 

Nicole stepped a little closer to him, coming out of the shadows; Terry noted that there was still no expression her face and that the sorrow had vanished from her eyes again. She was good at hiding what she felt. "I'm sorry." She muttered and he could tell that she almost meant it. 

"What about you? Your dad said you had two brothers." Terry pressed. "Were they younger or older?" 

Nicole stared at the ground beneath her feet for a long time before saying. "One was older, Evan, he was a car mechanic. He could fix anything that you put in front of him." She paused and her eyes clouded over again. "My brother, Chase, was only five; he wanted to be a fireman." Her voice cracked and she turned away from him again. "He was the first one to get bit, it was awful, there was blood everywhere." 

Terry stepped over to her and put a comforting hand on her shoulders, not at all surprised when she yanked away from him. He should have known getting her to talk was a bad idea, especially this soon; he should have been smart enough to realize that, unlike him, she had actually seen her family get turned into those things. "I'm sorry, Nicole." He said. 

Nicole just shook her head, keeping her back to him. "Well, you're the one that wanted to talk." She snapped. She had managed to gain control of herself again; Terry wished he could get beneath her hard surface and see the girl underneath. 

"Right." Terry mumbled. "So," he cleared his throat. "Why don't you tell me about yourself." It was a much safer topic then talking about her dead family. 

Nicole turned to him, a look of faux curiosity fixed on her face. "Oh, and what is it that you want to know?" She questioned, beautiful eyes burning with intensity. "Do you want to know about how I almost got kicked out of school? Or that I went to juvie for a month? Or that my parents hated me? Is that what you want to know?" 

Terry stared at her, surprised; this wasn't exactly what he had expected. So that was why her concrete mask had developed. Finally, he managed to speak again. "Why did you go to juvie?" 

"Destruction of public property." Nicole informed him, using the words she had heard too many times to count. She gestured behind him, toward the painted designs on the wall. "Apparently, spray painting buildings is illegal." Sarcasm was the only emotion he could detect in her voice. 

Terry watched her instead of looking to where she had pointed; she was so beautiful, so innocent, not the sort of person you expected to go to Juvenile Hall. "Why'd you do it?" He questioned and Nicole turned to look at him again, their eyes locking. 

"Because I was unhappy." Nicole answered, sarcasm apparent again. That had been the exact word her court appointed therapist had used to describe why she had 'acted out'. "Because my parents hated me for how I was about flunking out of school and becoming the teenager they had never wanted to have." 

"I'm sure your parents didn't hate you, Nicole." Terry assured her, though it didn't much matter now whether her parents did or not. "You and your dad seemed really close." 

Nicole shook her head. "Only after we got into Norma's truck. You have no idea how scary it is to have your dad suddenly forgive you for everything bad you ever did in your entire life. That's how you know you're going to die." The intensity left her eyes and was replaced by sorrow. The armor she had worked so hard to build around herself was cracking. 

Terry once again but his hand on Nicole's shoulder and this time she didn't pull away; she looked down at her feet again, unwilling to let him see the conflicting emotions in her eyes. "Do you want to know the worst part?" She didn't wait for an answer. "That I never got to apologize for everything that I had done. I never got to tell my mom that I didn't hate her, I never got to tell her that I loved her." Tears filled her eyes again and she feverishly wiped them away. 

Nicole pulled away from Terry before he could say anything; without a word, she turned and ran up the stairs that led back into the mall, leaving him behind to watch her disappear. Terry watched the stairs for a long time after she had disappeared, thinking about what she had told him and the pain that she must be feeling. 

He had done some things in his life that he wasn't exactly proud of, but the thought of not being able to apologize for them, to wonder whether or not his mother had forgiven him, was too difficult to imagine. Nicole had learned long ago that it was best to hide whatever you were feeling, from everyone; it was more difficult to get hurt that way. 

Terry wondered if Nicole knew that his heart fluttered every time she was around, wondered if she could see it in his eyes. He had always worn his emotions on his sleeve; with a mother like his, he had been raised that way. But Nicole was all alone with her thoughts, surrounded by the concrete she had enveloped herself in. She had no idea that when he looked at her, he didn't see the teenager that had made the mistakes she had and lost her parents' trust and maybe even love. 

When Terry looked at Nicole, he saw a concrete angel. 


End file.
